Choices
by kjt1
Summary: Sara has a choice to make when confronted with a drunk Nick - whom can she call for help and will he be willing? GSR Part 1 of 1.


Title: Choices

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Other than being an avid fan, I have no stake in CSI whatsoever ::sigh::

Spoilers: Through S4, definite spoilers for Bloodlines and Overload

Notes: I have no idea where this fic came from, but I'm immensely proud of myself for keeping it to 8 pages, since most of my fics get totally out of control.

Feedback: Always appreciated

---

"Dammit, Warrick, why isn't your phone on?!" muttered Sara as she threw her cellphone onto the table in disgust. Her eyes flickered to her companion and she stifled a groan as Nick's head popped up for a brief moment before flopping back down onto the table with a bang; he was too drunk to even put his arms on the table to protect his head. With a sigh, Sara considered her options. She needed to get Nick home, but she doubted she could get him out to the street on her own and, even if she did, or could get some assistance, she didn't think any cab driver would let Nick within a mile of their cab interior for fear he'd throw up. Since she had also been drinking – and had learned her lesson the hard way about drinking and driving – her only option was to get someone to come and collect them both, or at least Nick.

Warrick had been her first choice, as she figured he'd still be at the lab, and that was essential to solving her current predicament. However, he wasn't answering his cellphone, meaning he was either no longer at the lab, or he had his phone switched off because he was still questioning the suspect he was with when she and Nick had left three hours before, or he had obtained a confession and gone home. She considered paging him, but decided there was no point.

Catherine would have been her next choice, but she had left the lab at the same time as herself and Nick, saying she was spending the day with Lindsey since it was Saturday. Options shortening by the moment, Sara racked her brain for another solution, one that didn't involve her final choice.

"Greg!" she exclaimed aloud, suddenly remembering that he had been complaining that he was so backed up in his lab that he didn't think he'd get to go home before Monday. Quickly searching through the numbers in her cellphone, she called Greg and waited impatiently for him to answer.

"Hello?" came a rather sleepy voice.

"Uh, Greg, hi, it's Sara. Did I wake you?" she said apologetically.

"Yeah, you did, but I'm always pleased to hear from you, Sara," he replied and Sara could sense his smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm guessing you're not still at the lab?" she said somewhat sadly.

"No, I left about an hour ago, I was falling asleep so Grissom kicked me out before I drooled over any evidence – his words, not mine."

Sara smiled at his statement, picturing Grissom saying that and then she remembered the point of her call and changed her original intentions slightly. "Do you know if Grissom was planning to stay at work a while longer?"

"I think so, he seemed to be running some kind of experiment. Don't ask me what it was though. I tried to find out, but he told me if I went within twenty feet of it he would confine me to the lab permanently."

Again, Sara could imagine Grissom threatening Greg and she chuckled a little. "Okay, thanks, Greg."

"You don't need anything?"

"No, I… Well, yeah, but I need someone who's at the lab."

"Oh, okay. Well, see you next shift, Sara."

"Yeah, bye, Greg."

Ending the call, she let out another sigh. There was no alternative; she was going to have to call Grissom. It was definitely a last resort, but the loud snores of Nick spurred her on and she picked up her cellphone again.

The phone rang for a while and she was about to hang up when she finally heard his gruff, "Grissom," in her ear.

"Hi, it's Sara."

"Yes?"

She took a deep breath as she realized he didn't sound in a particularly good mood. Blaming Greg for pissing him off, she steeled herself for the conversation.

"Are you still at the lab?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Why?"

"I need a favor, I've got a bit of a problem," she told him.

"What's wrong?"

She was more than a little surprised when he sounded concerned rather than annoyed and she rushed to say, "I'm at a bar with Nick. He's had _way_ too much to drink to be allowed in a cab and I've had a couple of beers so can't take him home."

"Where are you?" he asked, interrupting her before she could explain further.

"Houlihan's, it's –"

"I know where it is," he interrupted again. "I'll be there in twenty."

"Wait," she said sharply, instantly regretting her tone. "There's another problem." Grissom remained silent and she continued, "Nick left his jacket in his locker and his apartment keys are in it. He gave me the combination, so could you get them and bring them with you?"

He agreed and she passed on the information before saying a quiet, "Thanks."

---

Considering it was only mid-morning, the bar was fairly busy, but then it was Las Vegas. Grissom scanned the crowd and finally spotted Sara at a booth in a back corner. He caught her eye as he walked towards her and took note of her embarrassed expression. As he approached, he noticed Nick beside her with his head down on the table.

"What prompted this?" he asked, nodding his head in Nick's direction.

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "We came out to celebrate the conviction in the Roberts case, but Nick started downing tequila shots, two at a time."

The Roberts case had been a particularly nasty one involving the abuse of two young boys by a family friend. All of nightshift had worked on the case at one time or another, but Grissom, Sara and Nick had been most involved. It had been a rough time for all of them, especially giving evidence in court, but they had all been relieved when the suspect was convicted and sentenced to fifteen years in prison.

"Let's get him home," said Grissom, waiting for Sara to stand up and move out of the way before he started to shake Nick awake.

Between them, they managed to half-carry a bemused Nick to Grissom's SUV. Grissom laid a blanket on the back seat in case Nick threw up and then they loaded him in and fastened his seat belt, which was acting as both a safety device and a way of keeping him upright.

"You know where Nick lives?" queried Sara. "He moved after the stalker thing."

"I know," nodded Grissom.

"Will you manage to get him into his apartment okay?" she asked.

"You're not coming with me?" he said in surprise.

"Uh, I was just gonna get a cab."

"Sara, get in," he instructed, pointing to the passenger side door. "I'll take you home after we get Nick settled."

She looked dubious, but eventually gave in and moved hesitantly towards the door. Opening it, she slid into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt, already regretting calling Grissom and vowing revenge on Nick. The small amount of alcohol she'd consumed, coupled with a lack of food, was enough to make her a bit more relaxed than normal, or at least to remove some of her inhibitions. Being in close confines with Grissom in such a state was not a good idea, but she didn't really have a choice.

---

Sara inhaled a deep breath of fresh air as she helped get Nick from the SUV to his apartment. The ride there had been silent, with Sara staring out the side window for most of the way, avoiding any glances that Grissom sent in her direction. How she was going to survive the ride to her apartment, she didn't know, but she'd cross that hurdle later; right now, they had to get Nick inside.

"Can you open the door?" said Grissom, holding out the keys for Sara to take as he propped Nick up against the wall. She took the keys from him, feeling a jolt of electricity pass through her as their fingers brushed together. With trembling hands, she managed to unlock the door and they practically dragged Nick inside. He was partially awake, which was causing them more problems than when he had been passed out, as he was now trying to go back outside so he could return to the bar.

Grissom forcefully pushed Nick in the direction of where he assumed the bedroom would be, but Nick spied his alcohol cabinet out of the corner of his eye and tried to turn in that direction.

"Nick," warned Grissom.

"Aww, come on," he whined, "I just want one drink, it'll help me sleep."

"You've had enough already to sleep for about a week," said Grissom sternly. "Sara, a little help?" he requested, waiting for her to assist him in getting Nick to his room.

Working as a team, they managed to get Nick into his bedroom and they pushed him down onto his bed. He immediately passed out again and Grissom groaned as Sara looked from him to Nick and then back to him again.

"The next time you want to celebrate a case, make sure I'm with you so he can't get into this state," muttered Grissom as he started removing Nick's shoes.

"We did invite you this time," pointed out Sara, "but you said you had work to do."

He nodded to acknowledge the truth in her statement and then emitted a sigh of relief as the second of Nick's shoes parted from his feet. He dropped the shoe onto the floor at the end of the bed and tugged at the blanket until it was released from under Nick's body. Tossing it over the younger man, he started to leave the room, Sara following close behind.

"Come on, I'll take you home," said Grissom quietly as she closed Nick's bedroom door.

Remembering the last time he had said those words to her, Sara dipped her head slightly, but then regained her composure and gave him a weak smile.

"Thanks. And thanks for helping out with Nick, I was thinking I'd have to take him to my place if I couldn't get his keys, that's if I could have persuaded a cab driver to take us."

"It's no problem, Sara, though I'm not sure what to do about Nick."

"What do you mean?" she asked as they left the apartment and walked to his SUV.

"It's not like Nick to go out and get drunk like that, as far as I'm aware," he replied, using the remote fob to unlock the vehicle and getting inside. "I'd like to know what sparked this today, find out if it was just a one off."

"Speaking from experience, I think it was just a one off," said Sara, her voice low and with a remorseful tone.

"I'm sorry, Sara, I didn't mean…"

"I know, it's okay," she said. "I don't know what Nick's problem was, but I'll talk to him when he's up to it," she assured. She let her head fall against the side window and closed her eyes, partly because she was tired and partly to get her breathing under control, knowing that being so close to Grissom was definitely affecting her.

---

As she exited the car, the warm air enveloped her and she blinked a few times to adjust to the sunlight, mentally kicking herself for leaving her sunglasses in her own vehicle. The mixture of the earlier alcohol, no food and extreme tiredness was catching up on her and she felt herself start to sway, but was powerless to stop it; she opted for leaning back against the door for support.

"Sara?"

She was surprised at his voice, it sounded so close. Opening her eyes, she found him standing in front of her, a concerned look on his face.

"I'm okay," she lied, "just tired."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing a hand over his own tired face.

Sidestepping him, she started walking to her apartment. After a few steps, she stopped and turned around to see him watching her. "You want to come in for some coffee?" she asked, her own words surprising her. "It uh… You look like you could do with something to wake you up before you go home," she added to appease her own conscience as well as his.

She could see him weighing it up in his mind, trying to decide what choice to make. Finally, he uttered a soft, "Yeah," and started following her inside.

Nothing was said between them as Sara made coffee and placed two mugs on the counter. They both reached for them at the same time and their hands brushed lightly against each other; Grissom was the first to pull away. He walked to the couch and sat down, not waiting for an invitation.

"Are you disappointed in me?" she asked quietly as she sat down in a chair opposite him and pulled her feet up under herself.

"What?" He looked up in confusion, staring at her blankly.

"For drinking tonight," she elaborated.

"It's your life, Sara," he sighed, obviously not wanting to be drawn further on his thoughts.

"My counselor told me that I needed to regain control of my life, control alcohol rather than let it control me." He didn't look convinced and she knew why; most counselors told people to stay away from alcohol altogether. "I'm not an alcoholic," she stated bluntly. "I came close, but I didn't get to that stage." He remained silent, which infuriated her. "I would probably have become one had it not been for the DUI," she admitted.

"You nearly got a DUI, Sara," he pointed out, in a tone that meant he thought she probably had to have been an alcoholic for that to happen.

"Yes, because I was a stupid drunk, not an alcoholic." She straightened up in her seat, dropping her feet back to the floor and placing her now empty mug onto the coffee table before looking at him seriously. "I was on the road to that, I know that, but I can honestly say that I am _not_ an alcoholic. Tonight was proof of that, as crazy as that sounds." He regarded her dubiously, putting his own mug onto the table and giving her his full attention. "It's the first time I've been in a bar since that night. I considered not drinking at all, but I needed to test myself, prove I could keep things under control. The really crazy thing? Nick was supposed to stop me if I had more than two beers, but by that time, he'd had like twelve tequila shots," she said wryly. "But I stopped at two beers. I didn't take any unnecessary risks. I didn't go back up to the bar, not even to order a soda; I knew it would be too much temptation. Watching Nick get as drunk as he did was probably a help to me, it convinced me I didn't want to be like that, in that state."

"You sound proud of yourself," said Grissom quietly.

"I _am_. I know now that I can go out with my friends, into a bar, and not let things get out of hand. Yeah, we were celebrating the conviction, but we were also talking through the case, reliving the horrific evidence we found and it was tough, but I didn't feel the need to drink the memories away." He slowly nodded his head, understanding what she was saying and beginning to accept it. "You were disappointed in me," she accused, but her tone was soft.

"No, I just didn't understand," he replied.

"Not tonight," she said, confusing him. "The night I got pulled over, you were disappointed in me."

"No, I wasn't." She looked at him disbelievingly and was about to interrupt when he continued speaking. "I was surprised. I was worried when I got the call, but it turned to surprise when I heard what had happened. The only person disappointed in you that night, Sara, was you."

"How do you mean? You weren't disappointed?"

"I could only be disappointed if I thought you had failed at something, but you didn't, you just took a turn in your life that I didn't think you would. For you though, you felt it as a failure, because you'd lost control."

"You're right," she admitted. "Have you been taking counseling classes?" she teased with a small smile.

"No, you think I should? I mean, I _am_ a people person after all," he grinned, glad the atmosphere had lightened considerably, some of the tension released.

Sara stood up and walked over to the window, aimlessly watching the cars drive along the highway that she could partially view. "I had a choice to make when things were getting too rough for me, I chose to drink," she said sadly, her self-annoyance evident. "I can't believe I came so close to throwing it all away… my career, my _life_."

"But you didn't," said Grissom, standing up and walking towards her. She turned to look at his as he spoke and his gaze never wavered from her eyes. "You stopped before it consumed you."

"Only because –"

"You _stopped_," he interrupted before she could mention the DUI incident again, "that's all that matters. You made the right choice in the end. I have to admit though that I was surprised to find that you'd been drinking tonight and I am concerned that you appear to have had too much."

"I'm not drunk," she stated resolutely. "I've had two beers, it's just that I haven't eaten in… well, probably about 24 hours."

Grissom searched her eyes and decided she was telling the truth. "Let's get some food into you then," he said, making his way towards the kitchen.

"I told you I'd been drinking, which you obviously thought I shouldn't be doing, yet you still came to help me out," she mused quietly as she followed him.

"I'll always help you out, Sara," he commented, keeping his tone purposefully nonchalant. "Hmm, looks like it will need to be eggs of some kind," he said as he peered into her fridge and found it nearly empty. "No wonder you haven't had anything to eat, do you ever do a grocery shop?"

She gave the excuse that she didn't have much time, knowing he wouldn't accept it even as she spoke. Promising to buy some food as soon as she could, she watched silently as Grissom made scrambled eggs, finding his way around her kitchen by opening and closing drawers and cupboards rather than asking her where everything was kept.

They ate in silence and Sara kept glancing at the clock, realizing how late in the day it was getting and how little sleep she would get before the start of next shift. Grissom was also aware of the time and, as soon as he had cleared away their dishes, he grabbed his jacket that he had removed earlier.

"I've made my choice," said Sara suddenly, stopping him in his tracks as he headed for the door. He stared at her and she looked at him in shock, realization setting in that she had spoken her thoughts aloud. His head cocked to the side, waiting for her to elucidate further; she said nothing.

"Your choice?" he prompted, stepping away from the door. At her continued silence, he asked, "Are you going to tell me what choice you've made?" She shook her head. "Okay. Well, if you've made a choice, there must have been _choices_ at some point. Care to tell me what the choices were?"

The hope that her now full stomach would have counteracted the alcohol faded as Sara wrestled with her inhibitions, or lack of them. Her still clouded brain failed to stop her mouth from answering his question.

"To kiss you, or not to kiss you."

His mouth fell open, as much amazed that she had thought of those choices as that she was actually telling him.

Her brain fog emboldening her, she took a tentative step towards him. "Do you want to know what my choice is?"

"You're drunk, Sara," he objected.

"I thought we covered this already," she sighed, disappointment washing over her. "I'm not drunk, I only had two beers."

"You were staggering."

"I was _tired_." She took another step, but he backed away, racking his brain for a way out of the situation that would leave both of them unhurt and with their dignity intact. "Grissom, I'm not drunk, I promise you. You know I don't make promises I can't keep," she said seriously. He nodded automatically at the truth in her statement, but was still unconvinced. "It's all about choices," she continued. "I chose to come to Las Vegas when you asked me to. I chose to stay. I chose to ask you out, knowing I could be rejected." She paused, taking a breath and appearing to gather strength. He started to interrupt, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand and a pointed look. "I chose to let the matter drop, to find other avenues and I also chose to stop doing that when things didn't work out. I chose to get myself drunk after a bad day. I chose to continue doing that until I couldn't make that choice any longer. I then chose to regain control and to take stock of my life."

"Sara –"

She ignored him and kept talking. "I chose to sit and watch Nick get drunk tonight, not just because it was a way of proving to myself that I was in control, that I had the strength to resist joining him, but because I wanted to be there for him, make sure he got home, be the friend that he obviously needed, even though he's a quiet drunk, not the talkative kind, so I have no idea what the problem was."

"Sara," he tried again, but once more his attempt at an interruption was foiled.

"I chose to call you for help tonight," she said, dipping her head as she added a quiet, "eventually." She looked up at him again. "I chose to invite you in for coffee, even though I expected rejection again. When you said yes, I chose to find out what you thought about me now, after the DUI incident. I then realized that I had to make another choice; give up or continue my pursuit." He looked at her sharply, his whole demeanor showing that he was flustered. "I chose to continue."

Her feet resumed their path towards him, but he didn't back away. She eyed him carefully, watching the emotions pass over his face. He was considering his choices and making his decisions, much as she had already done. She stopped a few steps away from him, not wanting to get too close just yet.

"I didn't really have a choice," she said out-of-the-blue. "I couldn't _not_ continue, it wasn't a viable option. The choices I've been considering have been about progressing my life, moving forward, and the only way I can do that is to try again with you. I know that may sound like a backward step, putting myself on the line again, but it's not. I'm going back to the root cause of my problems, but this time I have preventive action in mind, to do something that will prevent me from getting to the stage I was at before. Only problem is, I can't do it alone, not anymore."

It was his turn to speak, but he didn't know what to say. His mind was swimming with everything she had said that evening and he was also remembering everything she had said in the past. He knew it was his last chance, she had made her choice, but she wouldn't make the same one again if she failed this time.

"Nothing has really changed, Sara," he said slowly, instantly regretting his words as he saw her shoulders slump. "All the obstacles that were there before are still there."

"I don't care about them though," she said meaningfully. "And I don't think you do either, not anymore."

"What makes you say that?" he asked in genuine surprise.

"You came into my apartment when you thought I was drunk, knowing that I might put you in this position."

"You were staggering, I wanted to make sure you got in okay."

"You could have done that from the doorway," she pointed out. "Admit it, you made your choice as soon as I asked you in for coffee. You're at the same point in your life as I am, you want control over it."

"I've always had control."

"No, you've had _order_, not control. Work has always come first, _it's_ had control. Now though, you've realized that work won't always be around, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself it will be."

"Sara –"

"You made your choice, Grissom, just go with it. I know I'm going to go with the choice I made." He raised his eyebrows at her and she explained, "The one I made when I was choosing whether to kiss you or not."

His eyes widened, but he didn't raise any objections and he waited as Sara closed the remaining distance between them, stopping when the tips of her shoes came into contact with his.

"You never did tell me what choice you made," he commented after what seemed like endless moments of silence.

"You never really asked," she remarked.

"I'm asking now," he said huskily, swallowing hard as Sara's eyes bore into his.

"And I'm answering," she whispered as her lips made contact with his.

It was a long time before they had parted long enough to calm their breathing down sufficiently and could talk. Staring at each other in awe, their feelings clearly shown in their eyes, Grissom said with a smirk, "Nice choice."

"I told you it was all about choices," she smiled as she drew him towards her once more.

---

The End


End file.
